


launch it.

by burusume



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Yugotalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 08:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12294834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burusume/pseuds/burusume
Summary: The square was just so small for all of them.





	launch it.

**Author's Note:**

> The following short story is based on the Macedonian protests of May 2016, which would come to be known as the Colorful Revolution. Another work for the APH Macedonia Character Week.

_A frantic meditation on Tatjana’s current deliriously terrified state._

 

The square was just so small for all of them.

Body pressed into another body, connected skin, connected hearts.

Or were these souls?

The impeccable psychologist, Tatjana Janeska, one with a clean judgement and no euphemising on her tongue, thinks of them as souls this night. She could still feel and see blurred, coloured clouds around people, but mostly feel, feel their energy, and she was glad for still being able to do that.

Energy for destruction, and then for reconstruction. That was the main energy which she was feeling, but, if she was to put her mind to work and imagine the others which felt just a bit fainter and shadowed by the firsts, she could visualise the energy for a change needed to be able to foresee the day of tomorrow. To be able to  _redeem_  the quality of the day of tomorrow. She saw sharp energies, acute but stored in just one second in this world, which were screaming about poverty, ignorance, corruption. Nationalism and kitsch, it was all mingled together.

The protest grew beyond the peoples’ who were screaming expectations.

_“No Justice, No Peace!”_

What prompted her to scream that on top of her lungs too? Who was she? Was she anyone? Did she have an identity of her own?

_“No Justice, No Peace!”_

Why did she come to this place? What exactly was she supporting? What has brought her with these people or, rather, these people with her?

_“No Justice, No Peace!”_

Could she expect from herself to even be able to believe in anything? Such abstract notions, redemption, equality, freedom. How could she support them anymore?

_“Hey, hey now, let’s launch some!”_

What…what were they going to launch? Tatjana felt as if just in the next second people would start to grab at her feet and legs, and arms, and hands, to take a hold of her in order to launch  _her._  Weren’t they going to do that?!

_“Ma’am, here, take one too.”_

She quickly turned her head around and instinctively grabbed whatever the young man has offered her. What was it? A balloon…? Tatjana felt it around: it was full with something, maybe water? No, something ever thicker…Tatjana raised her eyes, thinking of what could it be.

The arc was spotted. The white canvas, so beautifully carved all around, had splotches of all colours on it. So small, compared to the monument’s size, yet so flashy and rebel. Did the spots know of what they have done? Did they know of what they covered, thousands of years of history?

Everyone was launching the balloons around her. Out of rubber bands, they flew so forced yet so gracefully, only for them to meet their end on the polished surface of the arc.

Weren’t her people just the same as these balloons, though? Haven’t they always launched themselves head first, with no fear nor thoughts of consequences? Weren’t they all meant to be splashed against history’s altar?

Tatjana Janeska started to approach one of the young adults by the rubber bands. Quick, large steps.

“May I use it too?”

And one more time, she felt ready to be launched, and splashed against history’s altar, together with her people.

_Splash_


End file.
